After crawling out of the Essex Marsh in March '59, I haven't covered myself with glory in any terms, especially those of musical discipline.
Despite the best attentions of the excellent music department of Colchester Royal Grammar, and several broken violin bits, I changed over to self-taught guitar, armed with Bert Weedon's Play in a Day. After considering suing Bert, I just tinkered with the piano, and over three decades worked out how music fits together. During that time, an ill-wisher gave me an out-of-tune accordion (which modern people delight in calling an oxymoron) and I struggled on tutorless, and musically illiterate.
I then discovered a wonderful shebeen known as the Hunter's Lodge, Priddy, Somerset, high on Mendip, where for the price of a pint, a dysfunctional university technician from Coventry would 'teach' piano accordion. Firstly, he suggested that I switch to guitar, secondly buy a new box, and thirdly fiegned sorrow at my announcement that I was relocating. So I threw money at the problem, and then determined not to have made a duff investment, played and played and played, until I went back to that pub, and played my teacher under the table! I now have a stable of Guerrini, Bugari and Soprani boxes, and aim to play more quietly than any other session instrument, and be an ambassador for this rightfully maligned instrument.
That lot took about a decade, kicking off in '92. The guitar has finally come on, as has whore-house piano, but I wanted something to play when there's another squeezer in the session, so I alighted on the idea of the fiddle. That was in June 2001. I locked myself in my bedroom with a pile of CDs, a cake of rosin and a borrowed fiddle, and wouldn't release myself until I got a recognisable, reasonably well timed tune out of the beast. This I did, in less than six hours, and it was Merry Blacksmith (Paddy on the Railroad to colonials), which is a swine of a tune on the keyboard. More surprising is that it remains my favourite tune, and I'll say it, I saw it good.
The mandolin, and all those octave jobbies that sound like lavatory flushing devices or African statesmen have fallen under my fingers very easily.
So, life is sweet. I now live in the Former Peoples' Republic of Humberside, near Barton on Humber, North Lincs, UK, and attend several weekly/monthly sessions with a plethora of instruments. I spend too much time at Mudcat, drink too much coffee, and don't spend enough time being a husband and father, but I will admit to being bemused when asked how much one should practice. It's how much one cannot practice that questions the student's passion to play.
Tunes in Skipjack's tunebook: 2
| Homewrecker | November 7th 2003 |
| Nag's Head | December 15th 2002 |
| Brocklesby Hunt | December 15th 2002 |
| The Six Bells | December 10th 2002 |
| Scattery Island Slide - any other name? | April 12th 2002 |
| Discussions | Re: 46664 session | December 1st 2003 |
| Discussions | Re: 46664 session | December 1st 2003 |
| Sessions | SESSION HAS MOVED | December 1st 2003 |
| Discussions | Re: Unintentional howlers ...! | November 24th 2003 |
| Discussions | Re: Made Me Smile | November 24th 2003 |
| Name | Type | Key |
|---|---|---|
| Emma's | jig | Eminor |
| Tim Maloney's | reel | Gmajor |